The Autumn Girl
by JustAMessyHairedGirl
Summary: A chance encounter leads to a very odd frienship, odder job and even odder attraction.


The cool wind of a Bristol Autumn tore straight through her thin green dress and Cassie wrapped her arms tightly around her waist. She loved days like this, when your hair whipped around your head and goose bumps raced across your arm, all while the sky turned into a roiling grey mess, wow. She walked quickly, splashing her bare feet through any puddles she found and skirting around the lumps of congealing food left by rowdy kids on their way home from school. No one else could be seen for miles and Cassie smiled, it felt like the whole of Bristol belonged solely to her. She nearly jogged around the next corner, passing the tightly drawn shutters of the local grocer before smacking into the back of a tall man. "Oh wow, like I am so sorry." Cassie trilled, plastering a large smile across her face. He turned slowly, eyes darting over her, taking in her entire appearance but not meeting her eyes. "Very good. Thank you." He says curtly, starting to turn away. Cassie is enthralled by his sharp eyes and thick, dark hair. "Like, not to be rude but, wow, are you Sherlock?" She asks, feeling stupid in case she is wrong. He nods but doesn't look up from the thick newspaper in his hands. "Oh wow!" She cries, a real smile forming on her face as she brings her hands up over her mouth. "I am, like such a big fan." He looks down at her, face impassive. "Yes well, that's nice." He answers, and turns to walk away. Cassie walks up beside him, matching his pace. "Teach me?" She asks, quietly. "No." Sherlock answers, turning his collar up and training his eyes on the ground as he walks head on into the frigid wind. They walk five blocks or more, her constantly asking him before he turns to her. "Private school education, couch-surfing, anorexic, possible personality disorder, uses fake kindness as a mask, deep intimacy issues and an obsessive need to be liked. Also partakes in many illicit substances. Am I correct?" He finishes, in a tone that says he already knows the answer and stalks away. She stares after him until he turns a corner, shocked and ashamed, how did he do that, it was amazing! She sprints to catch up with him, keeping pace with his long strides once again. "That was fantastic, wow, you are teaching me that." Is all she says as they continue to walk.

The hotel he has rented a room in is small and shabby and lovely. Cassie takes in the old floral wallpaper and the sagging chairs in the reception. "Wow." She whispers and then follows Sherlock up the stairs. "You must leave now." He says, voice rising above the monotone she has previously heard. In response Cassie slips in between him and the door frame and into his room. It is small and crowded, papers and documents cover the floor and wall and a smallish man sits at a computer oblivious to her. "Sherlock, where have you been? It's been two days, the chief is breathing down our neck to get this one sorted." He calls and Cassie giggles, causing him to look up with a start. "I am Cassie Ainsworth." She says, sticking her hand out firmly and smiling widely as he gently shakes it and introduces himself as John Watson. "Oh wow, I like totally know who you are. You're a team, everyone knows who you are! And I am here to learn." She finishes, dropping onto the sagging mattress by the window which is also partially covered in paper. "John, please make her leave she won't listen." Sherlock states, dragging his hand through his hair and turning to a pin board. "Uh, well… Would you please? Would you mind?" John starts, unable to tell the small, cold-looking girl with the large smile to go. "No." Cassie says, waiting for them to call the police or throw her out by force. "Please just teach me?" She asks and Sherlock sighs.

**6 Months Later**

She has deduced and deducted, caught criminals and outwitted gangsters and she has done it because of them. They sit around together, sipping on disgusting coffee and talking about the latest case. How has it gone this far? How has she become a member of the best crime solving team in England? She smiles, thinking back on that cold day, she had been down to her last few dollars and no one wanted her on their couch anymore and she had never told Sherlock or John that and never planned to, they knew she was grateful they just didn't need to know how much. She wasn't as smart as Sherlock, though he assured her otherwise but she had learned his tips and tricks and even had her own mind palace, she felt strong and in control of her own life, wow, she felt like an adult. She smiled into her cup and felt completely at home in the apartment they shared. The afternoon drifted into evening and John drifted away to meet a lady friend. They sat there, the two of them, eyeing each other and sipping on the whiskey that their tea had been traded for as the night drew on. "You saved my life that day." She says, feeling reckless, her tongue loosened by the alcohol. Sherlock shifts uncomfortably in his seat, before standing, back to her, peering down into the warm fireplace. "I know emotional things make you uncomfortable, like I really get that but wow, you saved me. I was down to $5 to my name and the dress I was wearing and I didn't have a couch to surf on, I was done. I planned on buying a cheap spliff then lying down in a pretty park and falling to sleep and not waking up. Like you don't even know." She stops, starting to cry silently and realising it was the first time she had done so in years. His back is still turned. "I knew." He says quietly. She stands walking up and wrapping her tiny arms tightly around his waist and pressing her face into the soft material of his shirt. He stiffens and then slowly relaxes, one hand gently squeezing her clasped ones. "Yes, well…" He says and his voice is thick, with emotion? Cassie pulls away and tugs on his shoulder, making him turn. One tear slides down his smooth cheek. "But you never cry." She whispers before leaning up and kissing his large, warm lips. He pushes her back, a startled expression on his clever face. "What was that? Why did you do that?" He asks, stunned, she did something he couldn't predict, she thinks and smiles. "Because I, wow, I really like you." She replies before leaning up and threading her fingers into his thick curls and pulling him down again. "Cassie" She feels him say but it is swallowed by the feel of their kiss and she has never liked her name so much as when she tastes it on Sherlock's tongue. His hands are awkward and grasp at the sharp points of her hips before he pulls himself against her, smashing their bodies together. He groans and Cassie breaks their kiss, smiling. "I knew. Even before you did." She says smarmily, happy with besting the amazing Sherlock Holmes at his own game. For once he accepts his defeat, with only a slight toss of his head to show he heard he buries his face into her neck, biting and licking and sucking on her as his hands slide up her pale thighs and under her thin blue dress. Cassie smiles knowingly. "Wow." She whispers.


End file.
